Ceallach spent the next few afternoons working with some of the craftsmen. There now stood a definite skeleton of a house where there once were poles and planks. He didn't talk very much - it was still difficult to come up with topics of conversation with anyone other than Aisling's condition, especially with strangers - but he answered when the others spoke to him. They felt like earnest people, and it was easy to volunteer a few words when they addressed him.

The couple that was to stay in the house they were building stopped by every so often, but Ceallach only saw them as he worked and didn't get any opportunities to speak with them. In any case, they seemed more preoccupied with how the house was coming along than having a conversation with the craftsmen, since they never stayed for long - just enough for Ceallach to catch a glimpse of their smiles as they leaned against each other, or study the make of their clothing, which seemed more elaborate than most of the other people in Tafal. At times, Ceallach felt a little sorry for the young woman, for he was sure she could not run or jump or play in her dresses, which seemed to him a rather significant design flaw.

Oslo was a respected member of the construction crew, but he sat apart from them when they took breaks, downing his food and drink in comfortable silence. Since Oslo was the one Ceallach knew most, he joined the other man at times, appreciating the quiet while also studying his ways. Bears were not uncommon in the tower's stories, often appearing as wise forest creatures, and he wondered if such traits were present in beastmen as well. Oslo clearly noticed Ceallach's curiosity, but didn't seem bothered by it.

"Can you talk to bears?" Ceallach asked.

Oslo contemplated a berry, then chewed it, grinning. "You're quite the chap! Nobody your age ever asks me about bears. But sure, I can, a little. They aren't talkative folks; keep to themselves a lot. When I was little I would look for them and try striking up conversations, but they mostly mind their own business and expect other things to."

Ceallach nearly went quiet after that, out of self-consciousness, but his curiosity won out. "What do they talk about?"

"Food. The weather. Mostly food. But they always talk about things they ate, not are going to eat, understand? They have to watch out in case someone wants to scoop out a berry bush before they do, but they're willing to reminisce with others about a nice meal they had the year before. Very past-minded, bears." Oslo paused, scratching the side of his face. "Though, the last time I saw one, during the springtime...she was very worried about the current salmon run. Said the fish were a little funny and she was having a hard time finding enough to eat. I told the people here to stop fishing and I didn't see her again. Which is a good thing, by the way, means she had no reason to come look for me."

Ceallach took a bite out of his piece of bread while he considered this. "What would I need to do in order to talk to a bear?"

"I don't know if you can, sorry to say. Even if you did, the bear needs to decide whether or not you have something important to say, first!" Oslo chuckled.

Ceallach finished his meal in silence.

Working long days in the sun, with the dust and wood and sweat, made for ratty hair at the end of the day, no matter how careful he was with it. Some of the other craftsmen were brave enough to be politely curious about it, making little jokes about how it would make good rope or wire. Beyond this, they gave Ceallach a wide berth, which suited him fairly well, since he could only stand to be the center of attention of so many people for so long before he got nervous.

At the end of each day, he would go to the river with a brush meant for horses and give his hair a rough washing. It was nothing like the brushing he would get from Aisling after a bath, but the kinds of tangles getting caught in his hair were much messier then he had ever encountered there, so he had to arm himself with stronger equipment. He missed her voice and her hands in his hair, but it still needed to be done, no matter how lonely it made him.

The river and the surrounding woods were quiet, save for the babbling of the water over the rocks. He wondered why he never saw any sort of animal there, not even a bird or rodent. The wood and river were alive, certainly - the trees seemed strong, and weeds clung to the rocks and riverbank, but he had yet to see something scurry or flutter about, or swim under the water he would wash himself in.

Just in case, he washed and brushed himself very carefully, trying to make as little of a disturbance as possible, in case he was frightening the local wildlife.

"What is your favorite animal, Ark?" Ceallach asked one night before they went to sleep.

Ark blinked at him, then looked out the window. "I am rather fond of moles."

"Really? I would have thought you would say something like a bird or cat."

"Moles are workers and builders. Their fur is also very soft."

"But aren't they pests? They might build impressive tunnels, but it's often at the detriment of people's own work."

"Must an animal be perfect in order to be loved?" Ark fiddled with his shirt, which almost seemed like a gesture of irritation, but his features were relaxed.

Ceallach scratched the side of his face sheepishly. "I didn't mean to criticize. I just found it unusual."

"That is fine," Ark said. "What about you? I saw many metal birds in the tower, along with other little animals."

"Most of the birds were made by Aisling," Ceallach said, pondering. "I do love birds, but I think I like dragons a bit more. They're more difficult to make, though..."

"They certainly do have a lot of limbs...anyhow, Ceallach, let's rest before tomorrow," Ark said, standing to extinguish the candle at his desk. "Good night."

----

It was darker than usual when Ceallach next had an opportunity to wash his hair in the river. There was still light to see by, but it wouldn't last, so he hurried with his brush. He was aware the noise he was making wasn't very kind to the animals he hoped were around, but he was in a hurry, so he murmured apologies with each rough scrape and scrub.

He heard a splash and looked up. For a moment, he saw a hunched shape standing in the river approaching him, but the light wasn't bright enough for him to make out who or what it was. Whatever it was, it was too big to be the sort of woodland creature he expected to find around the area. "Hello! Is anyone there?" he called out.

The shape slipped into the water without a sound. Ceallach waited for something to happen, but was only met with growing darkness. He rushed to get his hair cleaned up, but the water had grown very cold and hurt his fingers.

Now he had a second question for the people of Tafal: in addition to anything regarding Aisling's curse, he would ask them if they had ever seen anything by the river of late, especially something the size of a small person.

"No, it should be empty, it's been that way for a few months now, unfortunately," most of the construction workers agreed. Despite the confidence of their answer, Ceallach could tell that the possibility made them curious, since they would cast superstitious glances at the river on their break.

"I've been getting a lot of questions about a creature by the river," Ark announced that evening when he met Ceallach in their room. "You spend a lot of time there...have you seen anything?"

"Yes, I have. I've been asking people if they knew anything about it, but no one else has told me anything."

Ark frowned, then sat with a little sigh. "Ceallach, please keep in mind that when you're in my company, what you say becomes very important. If the companion of a demonic ward inspector begins questioning people about some kind of mysterious being by their river, their imaginations will create something much bigger than the reality. Try not to frighten our hosts, please."

Ceallach lowered his head. "Ah...especially since the river's been so quiet until now. They might already be suspicious of it."

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Well...I've never seen any animals nearby. It's a very healthy river, so it should have things around it, but I don't think anyone's seen anything there for a while."

"You may have simply imagined something to fill the space, Ceallach. Put it out of your mind - there are other things to focus on."

Such a dismissal did not sit well with Ceallach, but he had to admit he couldn't do anything about it if no one else knew what he was talking about. He kept to himself more than ever, afraid he might say something that would unsettle the people around him. He made sure to slip away towards the river without being noticed the next night, just in case his presence there might contribute to their unease.

"Stop," a voice called from below, the word raspy as if the speaker was ill or congested.

Ceallach nearly dropped his brush in surprise, but he recovered quickly, holding it in the air in case he needed to throw it.

"Go away," the voice continued. "You're making my home dirty."

"Who are you?" Ceallach turned towards the source of the voice and saw the hunched figure again.

"I worked hard and ate a lot in order to be alone here. So go away before I eat you too."

"I'm just washing my hair; it catches sawdust easily. I won't be long -"

"Sawdust? Is that what that cloying, tasteless stuff is? Get it away. Go away!" the figure lunged. Ceallach saw a gaping, toothless mouth close to his face, the stench of rotting fish filling the air. He almost yelped, but instead he threw the brush into the mouth without thinking. He heard a choked gurgle and the figure hit the water, again slipping away without a sound. He blinked, stood, blinked again, then dashed towards the inn.

"Ark, are you here? It's urgent!"

Ark was near the fireplace and stood when Ceallach came in. A few people eating or sitting at the tables around it looked up when he approached. Ark looked about to reprimand Ceallach, but he went quiet when he saw Ceallach's tense expression. "Why don't we go upstairs first?" he offered.

Ceallach felt the weight of many eyes on him and nodded. "Yes, that would be best."

When both of them were safely inside their room and the door closed, Ark turned towards Ceallach and sighed loudly. "What have I told you about minding what you say?"

"I was attacked by the river."

Ark stood still for a long moment. Ceallach suspected he was blinking behind his Seeing Blind. He opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to decide what to say. "Ah, who attacked you? Are you hurt?"

"No, I lost my brush though. It was the thing I had seen earlier."

Ark considered this with a hand on his mouth. After contemplating for a little while, he looked back up. "Tell me more about what you saw, please. Today and the other day."

"I didn't really see much of whatever it was...but it looked like a little person hunching over. When I first saw it, it didn't make any noise, but it seemed to want to get close to me until I spoke to it. Just now it talked to me, saying that it didn't like the sawdust I was bringing to the river."

"It's a bit of a shame you didn't see it," Ark seemed deep in thought.

"I saw its mouth, I think," Ceallach mimed the open jaw of the creature with his hands. "Like the open mouth of a pouch or fish. It talked a lot about eating things and was about to eat me!"

Ark was suddenly alert, and Ceallach grinned - he must have said something that helped the angel figure something out. "I hope I am wrong, but I believe you have met a demon."

"Here? But I thought that Tafal was warded against demons. Didn't you make sure of that?"

"Tafal is warded," Ark said, his wings fluttering. "But, perhaps, the river is not. River demons, even amongst demonkind, are notorious for their appetites. They often try to eat first, and then figure out of it was a good idea to have made the attempt or not."

Ceallach pondered this with a finger on his cheek. Oslo had said something about missing salmon, at one point...and the creature mentioned it had eaten everything around it to guarantee its solitude. "Then we should tell the people of Tafal to ward the river. Perhaps even the other celestials at the Celestial Portal will help -"

Ark shushed him quickly, gently putting his hands on Ceallach's arms. "Ceallach, Ceallach. You keep forgetting what I've told you about what you would say and how it will be received. If possible, we mustn't let the people of Tafal know about this. It will cause unnecessary unrest. We can handle this ourselves - there's no need to return to the Celestial Portal."

"We can? But I don't have another brush to throw at the demon," Ceallach said.

"Do not worry. We'll need a light, something stronger than a candle...and some paper. I have a quill right here...we might be able to take care of this tonight. Come with me, Ceallach."

Part of Ceallach wanted to protest, but he was excited to see Ark so motivated and driven to do something that he wanted to help. The two of them gathered their materials and headed towards the river. The river was quiet, as usual - no insects sang by its edge. Ceallach cast a glance up and down it, but could find nothing out of the ordinary.

Ark knelt to run a hand through the water, and leaped back immediately, his feathers fluffing in such a way his wings looked huge. He shook his hand as if he had gotten bitten. "Heavens! Ugh! Horrible! Unacceptable!"

"What's wrong?" Ceallach placed a hand on Ark's shoulders, which got him to stand still.

"It is so cold!"

Ceallach stared at Ark, then laughed quietly. Ark frowned at him, and Ceallach was glad the Seeing Blind concealed most of his features. "I'm sorry. Rivers tend to be cold, Ark." he said, stooping in order to test it out himself. It was icy, cold enough to hurt his fingers. "...Though I remember it being this cold only after I saw the demon..."

"And what were you doing when you first saw it?"

"Washing my hair."

Ark tipped his head in thought. "Would you mind loosing a little bit of it into the river? It doesn't have to be much."

Ceallach took a handful of it and held his hand over the water, allowing the hair to get swept up by the current. After a moment, he saw a shadow some distance away rise up from the shallows.

"You again," the demon coughed. The air grew heavy with the smell of decomposing fish.

"Denizen of the underdark, depart immediately, by the command of the forces of the celestial and godly planes," Ark commanded, holding up a sheet of paper with arcane designs on it. "I am an agent of heaven -"

"You are food!" the demon shrieked. "You bother me, so you are food!" It lunged again, its open mouth heading straight for Ark.

"Look out!" Ceallach yelled, dropping the torch he was holding and leaping in front of the angel. The demon's mouth caught his hair and yanked towards the river, dragging him into the water. Ceallach shouted with pain and surprise, and immediately regretted it, because the water was frigid and dark and he had trouble surfacing, even if he put all his energy into scrambling towards air. His lungs screamed, and his limbs stung due to the cold. The demon was trying to grab a hold of him, but whenever he felt the grasp of its toothless mouth around his feet, he kicked at it and sent it away.

"Dirt! Sawdust! Disgusting!" The demon's voice was clear even under the water. "You're disgusting! I'm going to eat you! Let me eat you!"

Ceallach felt something grab a hold of his hair again, and panic seized him as he was pulled in that direction. He was almost too weak to notice his head broke the water's surface and allowed him to breathe. Even above the water, it was dark...

"Ceallach! I've got you!" Ark shouted. Ceallach could barely turn his head to look at him before the demon attacked again, chomping at his arms and legs.

"You can't beat me in my own home! You can't even control your own whiskers!" the demon jeered, clawing at his hair.

"That's hair!" was all Ceallach was able to say before he was pulled under the water again.

Between the constant darting and gummy biting of the demon and Ark's clumsy attempts to pull him out, Ceallach could feel his hair knotting and snarling, each movement making his head sting. And yet...as frightened as he was, he could feel his chest knotting with hot rage. He almost took a deep breath to calm himself, but held his nose instead. He needed to think, not get angry...

"You can't imitate me, food! Useless land limbs!"

Ceallach's fingers burned. He roared under the water, flailing even harder, swimming after the demon as it circled him. How dare that puny fish insult him?

"You can't...ow! Foot, ow!"

Ceallach gasped as he broke the surface again, glaring after the source of the sound. The demon had gotten a leg caught in one of the many tangles in his hair, and its struggling only made things worse for it.

"Ceallach, now! You have to kill it!" Ark shouted.

Ceallach clawed at the water, his fingers leaving steam as he paddled towards the demon, who was trying to free itself by eating its own foot. Roaring in defiance, he wrung his hair around its neck.

"No! Eat, eat, I will eat you --" the demon croaked around its foot. It thrashed, kicking stubby webbed limbs, and after what seemed like an age, went completely still. Ceallach tightened his hold around it just to be sure, and when he was absolutely certain no life was left in it, felt his wrath ebb, and with it, most of his energy. He barely managed to drag his tired and heavy legs towards the riverbank.

"Are you...I'm deeply sorry, forgive me for not doing much," Ark said. "It's very hard for me to see in the dark."

Ceallach dropped to the ground, panting heavily. "You saved me. I should be thanking you, but I'm just...I'm just so tired right now."

"That's understandable. You've done a great thing - going toe to toe with a demon is no small feat, especially without divine weaponry."

"Toe to hair," Ceallach muttered, and both of them managed weak laughter. After a while, Ceallach's laughter turned into a long groan.

"Are you hurt?" Ark asked.

"Exhausted, but...ugh, my hair will smell like fish for weeks," Ceallach groaned.

Ark stared at him, then covered a little smile with a hand.